


Do Not Boop

by AEpixie7



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Cute, Funny, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEpixie7/pseuds/AEpixie7
Summary: "One would assume that after having averted the Apocalypse at the hands of the Antichrist, a certain angel and demon would have better things to do than get plastered and wander the shelves of a resurrected bookshop, perusing for the next amusing or bewildering title to come of an eleven-year-old's idea of what a rare bookshop should have on hand.One would assume incorrectly."





	Do Not Boop

**Author's Note:**

> I intentionally re-edited this fic to make it 666 words. I'm very proud of myself.
> 
> Also, this fic very heavily references [the lucidchart snek video.](https://youtu.be/0arsPXEaIUY) Because Adam is a child of the interwebs.

One would assume that after having averted the Apocalypse at the hands of the Antichrist, a certain angel and demon would have better things to do than get plastered and wander the shelves of a resurrected bookshop, perusing for the next amusing or bewildering title to come of an eleven year old's idea of what a rare bookshop _should_ have on hand. 

One would assume incorrectly. 

Crowley could not be suffered to be called an “avid reader,” by any stretch of the imagination, but apparently the stretch of an eleven-year-old's imagination was enough to change his habits. 

“Oh shit I found one!” he called over the rows of shelves, hearing Aziraphale startle, followed by a drunken hiccup. “What is it?!” 

“Oh, it’s a good one angel! I want this one, can I have it?! Please?!” 

“Well let me see it before I decide,” Aziraphale said, smiling and stumbling over piles of discarded books to approach the demon. 

“It’s called _'Gardening and Stuff’_ by Dr. Thumbe, A. Greene,” Crowley said with a giggle, and Aziraphale laughed as he observed the cover: a photo of a woman’s hand caressing a leaf, complete with actual green thumb. 

“Oh yes, of course, Crowley. It's all yours. Perhaps there’s some classical music suggestions in there to play for your plants if they’re suffering from PCSD.” 

Crowley wavered drunkenly, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the several blonde, blurry angels dancing around his vision. 

“Post Crowley Stress Disorder,” Aziraphale said, already laughing at his own joke before he finished it. “Ah ha-ha-ha,” Crowley sneered, though he tucked the book under his arm so he wouldn’t forget it. 

“This one might be my favorite so far,” Crowley said, stumbling his way over to the sofa and plopping onto it, the book balancing on the armrest as Aziraphale poured him another generous helping of wine into his glass. “Which one's your favorite?” he asked, watching as Aziraphale sank into his chair, his wine glass sloshing dangerously. 

“Oh, the book on Demonology, absolutely,” Aziraphale laughed, Crowley rolling his eyes in response. 

“It’s not that funny,” he grumbled, frowning as Aziraphale fetched the book from his side table and opened up to a bookmarked page. 

“It calls your eyes _'peepers!’_ ” he cackled, holding the book up and pointing to the 'Demon Noodle Anatomy' page, a bit of his wine spilling at his feet on the floor. “And your nose is a _'nom nom seeker!’_ ” 

Aziraphale doubled over with laughter as Crowley pouted, taking a gulp of wine. “’S not funny,” he repeated, hissing loudly as Aziraphale leaned forward in his chair and threatened to 'boop' his nose with a finger. 

“Hey hey hey, doesn’t the book say no boops?” Crowley asked, trying to maintain his scowl but failing as a giggle bubbled up at the word 'boop.’ 

“Oh please Crowley, you don't have any… what's the book call it? _'Hurt juice?’_ ” Aziraphale leaned his elbows on his knees, wiping tears from his eyes as he continued to laugh. 

“ _That you know of,_ ” Crowley mumbled, hiding his little grin behind his wine glass as he took another sip. 

“Of course, of course, I'm sorry Crowley. Even if you did have any venom, I'd probably still be more frightened of your…” he furiously whipped through pages of the book, holding it up once more and guffawing at the page he found. “Unholy Tire Iron of Antioch!” 

Crowley stood and swiped the book from Aziraphale's hand, tossing it into the fireplace and miracling it to light itself, watching as the flames seemed to swallow the book whole. 

“Oh _Crowley,_ ” Aziraphale whined, standing and frowning down at the flames. He hesitated a moment, then reached behind Crowley's ear, miracling the book into his hand and pulling it in front of the demon's face with a flourish and a “voila!” 

Crowley stared at him, completely unamused, then downed his entire glass of wine. 

“I hate you.” 

Aziraphale simply chuckled, then tapped Crowley's nose with his index finger. 

“Boop.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Do Not Boop](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19805278) by [GoLBPodfics (GodOfLaundryBaskets)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodOfLaundryBaskets/pseuds/GoLBPodfics)




End file.
